Erasure
by Valdryfor
Summary: It resides inside, and to doubt is to die.


_They said something lived beneath the reactor level, a being independent of radiation, mortality, and evolution._

She regretted taking the extra hour at the library to read, as the corridors this time of night had dimmed in accordance with Vault policy. The thick material of her jumpsuit staved off the coolness of the lowered temperature, but the uncanny silence still brought a chill to her spine. She paused and stretched her hand toward a nearby light switch upon rounding the corner, but took a moment to reconsider it and then just kept walking.

_It doesn't sound like any traditional monster or entity we'd ever heard of in folklore books and holotapes. It favors the lights over darkness, and it has no known strengths or weaknesses. No one can describe what it looks like because, as legend goes, it's "indescribable."_

Two minutes went by, and still the only sounds in the hallways were her hesitant footfalls. A foreboding feeling crept into her gut, clutching and dragging until her stomach knotted. Her grip tightened on the library book she had checked out, a story on atheism and debunked superstitions that gave her the strength to continue the trek to her apartment.

_Everything about it is one big contradiction. It exists, but it doesn't. When it's upside down, it's right side up. When its scratching sounds close, the farther away it is._

And then she heard it: a _skkrrr, skkrrrr_ noise right behind her that had her heart leaping in her throat. She whirled around to find empty space, but the impossible had already become possible, and she regretted her longstanding skepticism. The scratching began to decrease in volume, fading more and more until the panic overwhelmed her. Spinning on her heel, she fled and refused to look back.

_And the farther it sounds, the closer it physically is to you._

She called out for someone, anyone. The residence wing was still a distance away, however, and even if she stopped by the Overseer's office, she knew her father always locked up and left at least three hours before the current time. Citizens usually adhered to Vault curfew, but she held out hope that maybe this was one instance where someone besides her had disobeyed—even if that someone included the security chief's unruly son or his fellow Tunnel Snakes.

_There have been no records of any eyewitness sightings. But for some reason, _everyone_ believes it's real, it's here. Myself included… formerly._

Formerly, and now that belief had returned. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she ran, feeling the strain on her body, vastly out of shape. She knew the effort was futile, but human nature dictated fight or flight over surrender. Self-preservation fueled her adrenaline, but no matter how far she got, escape was no longer feasible.

_It isn't blind faith on our part. We're freethinking people grounded in reality. As a community, we understand how absurd it sounds—some of us more than others. It's just that…_

The scratching noise had become so faint by now that she estimated two seconds left.

_When you don't believe, or you stop believing…_

Something—not a hand—or someone—not a person—reached for her in an unseen action.

_It makes sure YOU cease to exist._

Suddenly, contact; a glimpse, the truth, her soul—

"Amata Almodovar."

Then, nothing.

-x X x-

The Overseer sipped his coffee as he read through the reports, brow creasing as, once again, the population numbers added up to make little sense. According to the Vault birth and death statistics over the past two hundred years, they should have been overflowing with people by now. Either the computers had finally begun to degrade or they'd spent a staggering number of decades delegating mathematically inept people to record every census.

Sighing, he dropped the stack onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, glancing at the library book Andy had found in the middle of the recreational corridor this morning.

_Atheistic Thinking, Superstition, and Myths: Busting the Sheep Mindset._

He frowned at the title and immediately grabbed the hardcover novel to toss it into the trash. "I didn't know we had books like this in the library," he muttered to himself. "I'll have to send over some of the security personnel to double check all the shelves."

His eyes then drifted to the picture frame next to the reports, and a wistful smile pulled at his lips as he gazed at the photo. A much younger version of himself stood beaming next to the woman who would become his wife. While he had lost her to sickness several years ago, he remained as faithful as ever.

Only one thing seemed to be missing—something that would have completed the family portrait.

"We should have had children. She would have loved a daughter."

-x X x-

_We're Vault 101, a facility buried somewhere in the Capital Wasteland of the United States, and a secret that Vault-Tec took to the grave. Our Vault has never opened throughout the centuries. No matter how much we gain in numbers, knowledge, or technology, our door was designed to remain permanently closed…_

_Not to lock danger out, but to keep evil locked in._


End file.
